


Homecoming

by theclaravoyant



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy Smut, Humour, MCU Kink Bingo, but definitely Smutty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 23:27:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15205811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaravoyant/pseuds/theclaravoyant
Summary: Fitz and Daisy are finally moving into their own apartment, and it's... thirsty work.-Rated high M/low E





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> written for an Anon who prompted me on tumblr with [this visual prompt](http://florchis.tumblr.com/post/174000633245) (nsfw; a couple standing together against a table; the shirtless man runs his hands over the woman's ass; she is wearing underwear and a pullover jumper she has lifted as if to touch her breast); also written for my [mcukinkbingo](http://mcukinkbingo.tumblr.com/) "Skitz" square (but don't worry, you're still welcome to prompt me Skitz for other squares).
> 
> I'm still accepting other prompts (smutty or otherwise, here or @theclaravoyant on tumblr), but am prioritising those that will help me fill my [bingo squares](http://theclaravoyant.tumblr.com/post/174958815476/prompt-me-mcubingo-edition). I also have [this new NSFW visual prompt list](http://theclaravoyant.tumblr.com/post/175203499302/smutty-visual-prompt-list-nsfw) if you'd like to make use of it. In the meantime, enjoy!

“What are those eyes for?” Daisy teased, with a sly smile as she caught Fitz watching her from the kitchen. He had been setting up the electrics and plumbing while she lugged chairs and boxes up the stairs, and apparently, he’d paused in his work subconsciously to watch her with a longing sort of expression. He blushed when she caught him out, though, and hurriedly cleared his throat.

“Uh, nothing,” he blustered. “The, uh- the fridge is ready to be turned on, that’s all.” 

He ducked below the sink and busied himself with checking the pipes and washers, but Daisy wasn’t ready to leave him be that easily. They’d had a long day of work and heavy lifting, after all; they’d well and truly earned the right to unwind a little. 

“Great,” she said, keeping her tone as casual as it could be while still dripping in sex as she sidled up to the kitchen bench. “The only thing we’re waiting on is the bed, then.” 

She grinned at the little _thump_ and a yelp that told her Fitz had hit his head. 

“Oh, that hasn’t- that hasn’t arrived yet?” Fitz wondered nonchalantly. He stuck his head out, and Daisy almost licked her lips. It wasn’t as if she’d never seen the appeal of handymen in porn before, but now that she had her own, she appreciated it on a whole new and more visceral level; it was like every fibre in her body suddenly yearned to reach out and drag her hands through those mussed up curls. 

Instead, she snorted. “Oh, please. You’ve been waiting on the bed all day; screw the fridge and the table and the TV. You haven’t stopped giving me bedroom eyes since we chose this place. _Oh,_ Daisy, look at this curtain rod! Mmm, frosted sunshine paint swatches. Let me touch your sweet sweet mouldings.” She waggled her eyebrows at him, and swaggered off to resume her work. “You have a domesticity fetish, babe. I think it’s cute.” 

“You’re the one who just made a joke about my sexy curtain rod,” Fitz retorted.

Daisy pretended to ignore him as she knelt to shovel piles of books from the box into the shelf, but in reality, she was thinking about the trip they’d been on to pick the paint colour. How nice it had been to actually have a choice of décor for once – if also a little overwhelming, after so many years of, ‘here’s ancient secret underground brick, it’s all the rage, enjoy.’ She remembered how she’d laced her fingers through his as they’d walked down the aisle of the hardware store, as easily as if it were a beautiful garden, and how she’d kissed him in the parking lot. Even now when she closed her eyes she could picture what it would be like when the bed came. They could make luxurious, languid love for hours, they could fuck so hard and fast they were shaking the place down, they could do whatever they wanted – it would be theirs, and there would be nobody else around to hear them. They could do it in the bathroom… in the kitchen… even here. 

(Daisy could imagine it. Her back against the shelf, one of her hands clinging to it and the other to him as he kissed her neck and thrust into her with power, dedication, reverence. A flush of heat ran down her spine, and she almost dropped the books she was trying to ferry to the shelf in one overwhelmed hand.) 

Perhaps she should leave the books for now, Daisy decided, and stood up and moved back to the dining table. It was nothing special – for all their lavish fantasies, they did have a near-shoestring budget, at least for the moment – but still she took pride in brushing off and arranging the chairs. It didn’t look half bad. A little retro, maybe, but she could work with that. She had lived in a van her whole life, after all. 

And it was here that something else struck Daisy. The sexual fantasies might be fun, but there was also something undeniably special about simply having her own space. She’d never had the chance to make a home before, really; she’d never wanted to bother even when the chance had presented itself. Now she was imagining what kind of décor they might have. She was imagining a future. Even if it was a short-term future where the only thing in their cupboard was the popcorn they had bought specifically to eat out of a bowl this evening while they watched their first movie on their first TV from their first couch. She took a deep breath, and though the room still smelt like dust and paint, it was, to her, opportunity. 

“Ah, now who’s got the domesticity fetish,” Fitz teased, though his voice was soft; he knew that was not what she’d been thinking about. Not at that moment, anyway. He kissed the back of her neck, and he had to admit, he did feel a little… proud, of the smell of his jumper on her. It reminded her that she’d chosen him, she wanted _him_ , she _wanted_ him, and who wouldn’t be proud of that? And maybe it was her teasing on the brain, but it wasn’t just his ego that inflated with that thought. 

“Shut up,” Daisy scolded, fondly, and turned to look up at him. She could feel the semi-hardness he was pressing against her, and she was not opposed to it – nor to the way he slid his hands around her hips and down below the elastic waistline of her shorts. He waited for permission to push them down and she did it for him, letting them fall away and enjoying the way he snorted in somewhat animal-brained irritation as her skintight boy-shorts foiled his fantastical hopes of seeing her naked ass. She laughed. 

“Leopold James Fitz. Here I was thinking you were a boob man.” 

“Bold of you to assume there isn’t a single part of you I don’t want right now,” he murmured in reply, and kissed her neck again with such fervent desire she had to steady herself on the edge of the table for a moment, even as her hand crept up under her shirt, under his sweater, and she squeezed her breast in the hopes of relieving some of the need she could feel humming in her veins. She was only a woman after all; she had only so much strength to tease and resist, especially when her head was so full of fantasy, and so when Fitz didn’t get the message to take up the task of fondling her himself, Daisy turned around in the small space to make her desires known and found that the surprises just kept on coming. Fitz had taken off his shirt. Daisy ran a grateful eye over his lean musculature, hummed in approval and bit her lip, and that was all the vocalisation Fitz needed to lift her by the hips up onto the table, and step in between her open legs.

Daisy eyed his crotch with a devilish smile. “Is that a screwdriver in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” 

“I’m very happy,” Fitz replied calmly, dragging his fingers lightly up and down her thigh as he leaned in for a kiss. Daisy kissed back with fervour, pulling him closer, feeling the thrill as her own little moment of imagined fantasy from earlier came a little closer to life. It certainly didn’t help that Fitz was kissing his way down her neck, and at the same time, wandering with his hands up under the cardigan, to massage her breasts and kiss her shoulder and just generally arouse all the air from her lungs, until she had to throw her head back and gasp for breath with a positively pornographic moan. 

Fitz smiled, as if considering this a victory, and stepped closer, and Daisy had to abandon one of her hands’ grip on his hair to hold herself up, practically whimpering as she let Fitz’s hands work her into a mess of arousal. If only his cock were a few inches closer, she thought, so she could grind on it like she wanted to and bring him to a similar state of ever-growing, self-perpetuating need. 

As if he could hear her thoughts, Fitz stepped in even closer. Close enough that she could get her legs around him and pull his crotch against hers. She pulled his hair a little harder; she was back in the game now, and the friction of his rough denim was powerful even through her underwear. He was back to kissing her lips now – passionately, desperately, and she could feel him grow harder. He huffed and moaned and whimpered with longing now, peppered between hers as she successfully wrought him drunk on her friction; even occasionally thrusting against her and the table when the dissatisfaction became too much. Yet, he responded masterfully all the while, moving one hand to her back, holding her up, and the other to her clit, rubbing it through her shorts, and between her own stimulation and his it almost overwhelmed her. 

“Stop, stop,” she breathed. He stopped kissing her, and took his hands away, and she readjusted her seat a little so that she could sit up on her own. Everything between her legs felt hot and stinging and swollen and _lord_ these few paused seconds were torture. Both of them breathing heavily, Fitz rested his forehead against hers and cupped her face. 

“D’you have a condom?” she asked, explaining herself before he could wonder if she was okay.

“What? Yeah. It’s in here somewhere.”

He was still a little dazed, lost in the world where there was them and kissing and heat on skin and nothing else. Where books and boxes and the table and bench were foreign objects. He turned slowly, peering around the room, and gravitated toward a pile of untouched boxes. He pulled open the top one, then another, then a third, and emerged victorious with a condom packet between his fingers. 

Daisy laughed. Laughed so much she practically snorted, though only part of that was humour, and part of it was the fact that she was just as drunk on the pleasure he’d given her as he was on hers. “Oh my _God,_ you actually _packed_ those? Why not just buy new ones, you horndog?” 

“I wasn’t sure I’d get time before you jumped my bones,” Fitz explained. “You haven’t stopped giving me bedroom eyes since we chose this place.” 

He grinned and Daisy rolled her eyes, but she was just too damn horny for any more games. 

“Alright, I admit it,” she confessed. “I love this shit. I wanna fuck you on our new colour coordinated cotton towels. But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to have the baby conversation yet, so wrap it up, Mister.” 

“You don’t want to wait for the bed?” 

“We’ve got a perfectly good table right here,” Daisy replied, though it wobbled when she hit it, which didn’t bode well. Fitz frowned. 

“That’s too low for my hips,” he said, in case they needed a reason other than their only precious table’s potential collapse. 

“Couch then.” 

“Deal.”

Daisy sprung off the table, pulling her shirt and Fitz’s pullover off and throwing them aside as she sprung onto the couch and wriggled into it, making herself comfortable. The air and the material were cool against her skin, and she knew it wouldn’t be long now before the heat of their bodies warmed her up again. Speaking of which – she sprung up again for a moment and pulled off her boyshorts, before jumping back into position. By this point, Fitz was ready, and laughing at her rolling around with an eager grin on her face, like a puppy about to get its belly scratched. He kissed her stomach for good measure, and made his way back up her chest, and she shivered with anticipation as she felt his cock brush against the inside of her thigh… so close to her now…

Then – of course - the doorbell rang. 

“Ah, fuck,” Daisy cursed. “I bet that’s the bed.”

But she couldn’t have gotten up, even if she wanted to. Fitz had his arms braced around her shoulders, his hips pressing lightly on hers. He shrugged. 

“They’re _three hours_ late,” he reminded her, and leaned in to kiss her. “They can wait a little longer.”

“What if they take it back to the depot?” 

“We’ll sort it out tomorrow,” Fitz assured her. “Who needs a bed, anyway, eh?” 

He lifted his hips, dragging his cock against her to punctuate his point, and well - Daisy couldn’t argue with that.


End file.
